PM Rudd practising his apology speech.
PM Kevin Rudd plans to say sorry not just to the stolen generation of indigenous Australians but to all Christians on behalf of God and Adam and Eve for original sin. He will also apologise to Evolutionists on behalf of the Darwin family for those living in lower socio-economic areas still evolving into humans, and anyone who has been out with Wayne Carey since he quit football. He also plans to apologise to the Jews on behalf of Hitler’s parents.
Kate Neilson (brunette on the left) with a blonde former friend after a night out with Wayne.
Current mood: ditzy. [ Click here to read more ]
“Too much piss, not enough drugs,” Demetriou said at a press conference. “The King needs to chill a bit for a while until this whole incident blows over so we can install him as an AFL Hall of Fame as a Legend like we did with Gary Ablett Snr. At least the bitch didn’t die of a drug overdose like Ablett’s one-night stand,” he chuckled, referring to Carey’s gold-digging ex girlfriend, who is now on the lookout for another sucker AFL bad boy footballer. “She only got a few major scars to her face and a few bruises, and let’s face it, most AFL groupie chicks deserve it,” he added as his wife tried to interject, was punched in the mouth, and carried out on a stretcher to Prince Alfred Hospital. When quizzed on why Ben Cousins would oversee Carey’s anger management course, Demetriou said, “Placid people are not qualified to deal with anger management. To manage anger you have to be familiar with anger itself, and that’s why Ben got my nod.”
Officer Wayne Carey gives the thumbs up to his new Miami PD uniform.
Miami Chief of Police, Ty Dup has dropped assault charges against Wayne Carey and offered him a job as an honorary battering ram for the local SWAT team. “It’s the thickness of his head,” Chief Dup said. “It doesn’t seem to matter to Wayne how many times he rams it into something or someone, he always comes back for more with the same thick head. He’ll also be handy if we have to subdue women. Instead of a baton, gun, capsicum spray or handcuffs, he’ll be issued with two empty wine glasses.” Carey said he was looking forward to wearing a police hat to cover his baldness but ruled out a football comeback with the Miami Dolphins. “Plus chicks just dig guys in uniform.” Carey’s girlfriend, Kate Neilson, said she was still cut up over the incident but the blows had been softened when she was offered a lucrative role as a car crash victim who flies through a windscreen in the latest TAC (Victorian Transport Authority Commission) ads.
Prime Minister Kevin Rudd has released his first draft of a revised list of true/false questions immigrants will have to get right before becoming Australian citizens. “By putting the answers in the pamphlet in 28 languages we hope that non English speaking immigrants will be able to get most of them right by the seventh try.”
Kangaroos learnt to hop when Captain Cook’s men shot at the aborigines and missed. [ Click here to read more ]
400 million Indian women whose children suffer from insomnia have bought copies of the DVD ‘Highlights of Ricky Ponting’s Captaincy’ to help their children sleep. “My child falls to sleep as soon as he starts changing the field around between overs,” was the most common reason for so many women buying the DVD.
“He will rot and burn in hell for making the casket out of wood,” self-appointed spokesperson for the Texas hate group Shirley Phelps said. “It’s a deliberate attempt by Hollywood Jew slimebag sinner undertakers to deify a known public homosexual, and drag millions of other faggot-loving, movie watching, popcorn crunching scum to hell. Actors aren’t worthy of being buried in wooden caskets when God’s only son died on wood. God is 100% love but He hates fags. Just read John 43.16. The Jews know Jesus died on the Cross. They put him there because He was on his way to Texas to set up a global spiritual kingdom in the regional south of the United States with Mary Magdalene’s sister Martha who was John the Baptist’s niece, rid this country of filth, and propagate a nation of virtuous monogamous Baptist latter day Saints. If you study a map of Calvary and Christ’s last footsteps you will see they were pointing to Texas. That’s a real red carpet. One of your own blood. He died of a broken heart at not being able to fulfil his life’s mission as much as he did of his injuries. He could have flown to Texas in a helicopter he made when he was 12 but didn’t want to scare people with his knowledge of future events too much and got the Apostles to burn it along with the blueprints. Fortunately our founder realised this by divine revelation after fasting for three months in a desert cave while writing the Baptist Manifesto and interpreting the Bible properly, and continued Christ’s child-bearing work on earth with select Baptist virgins such as myself, while everyone else stumbled around in complete ignorance of God’s word by reading non-Baptist literature. To this day he won’t fly by helicopter. God waited almost two thousand years to see if there was a person anywhere near as morally upright as our founder. God is infinitely patient but not with fags. What’s a few thousand years to God? Most of the time he just spends counting how many more faggots are in hell, and how much compassion he shows to them by letting them live long enough to convert. But they’re too reprobate. He’s waiting for the end of the world when he only has to hang around Baptists, and can forget how evil faggots are. After the evil Jews killed Christ, they purposely set up the media to deny it ever happened, and the Muslims and other false Christian sects transcribed these writings into their own false faith or just invented false teachings. When Jews couldn’t get their message out to enough unbelievers on scrolls, they invented the printing press to corrupt the masses, and in league with Satan invented the net using the devil’s love child Bill Gates, whose mother was Marilyn Monroe impregnated with L Ron Hubbard’s preserved sperm. 2000 years on and New York Jewish undertakers are still mocking Christ by making caskets out of wood for fags. But God will have the last laugh. And what a long laugh it will be. And we’ll be the only ones there with Him. He dispersed the Jews and put them in Hollywood and New York banks and let them run the media and the world as a generational race punishment for their wickedness. Most Jews are faggots anyway. It’s a known fact backed up by statistics the Wall St Journal shrouds in money talk. They might be in control in this life but just wait till the next when us Westboro Baptists are proved right. So many people miss the irony of American soldiers dying in the Holy Land, and how God allows their bodies to be brought back to this cesspool country of iniquity, whoredom, sodomy and blasphemy to be buried. He doesn’t want their corpses polluting the area where his Son grew up just like he doesn’t want them in Texas. And then you have Australian soldiers fighting on behalf of America when it’s none of their business, so they go back to that modern Gomhorra to be buried. Just as Judas infiltrated the Apostles so Mel Gibson was called by God to go into Hollywood and make real films about Christ to wake the pro-Semitic world up to itself. But people who don’t read the Bible are so dumb they arrested him for drinking, after Christ drank wine to set an example of how even before you die you should eat and drink to keep your strength up. God used Gibson to lead him to the Baptist faith but so far even he doesn’t understand his calling. Hitler did the world a favour, and Charles Manson should be set free.”
Immigrants who were granted Australian citizenship on Australia Day in Melbourne yesterday by Mayor John So have questioned why they need to learn English when the Lord Mayor can’t speak any. “I couldn’t understand a word he said,” said former Greek immigrant, and Rod Laver Arena cleaner Maria Popadopadoulous. She admitted to nodding and saying Yes to whatever it was Mayor So said during the ceremony. “Was that Mandarin? And what’s with the funny ‘ho-ho-ho’ machine-gun laugh? I would have felt more comfortable if Kevin Rudd was here to translate. What upsets me most is, after all that, I’m still not sure if I’m an Australian citizen or not.”
Sydney Mardi Gras organisers have hired Bindi Irwin to counsel gay horses to get over their stable phobias and come out in force this year at the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras. “Certain horses are born gay,” animal and life expert Bindi said. “They can’t help it. They should be accepted into society like Phar Lap and Makybe Diva were. Why should all the straight horses get whipped in public arenas like Flemington racecourse while the gay horses who love that stuff miss out?” Bindi, who thinks Horse Whispering is a load of crap for effeminate men says she shouts at the horses. She plans to dress up as a schoolgirl dominatrix and ride the leading gay horse in the parade by standing on her head, while she dances and sings, recites the script of Brokeback Mountain backwards, while formulating a plan to save the Great Barrier Reef. Bindi even hopes her father is reincarnated as a gay. “He can always adopt a dolphin,” she said to the famous Wiggles tune. Bindi denied rumours she was a lesbian or that she was really pissed off at not being named Young Australian of the Year or getting a gig on Dancing With The Stars. “I’m as comfortable in my own skin as I am as dad was in a wetsuit,” Bindi said as she cut short the media conference to take a phone call from NASA to help their chief rocket scientist solve a problem.
Lee Kernaghan, newly crowned Australian of the Year, and Pauline Hanson's favourite musician was the first to congratulate Nicole's foetus in his acceptance speech, saying her womb was "an inspiration to all real Australians."
Heath Ledger’s uncle said he didn’t realise the media would want to interview him about Heath’s state of mind during his last hours due to the fact he hasn’t seen his nephew for a month, and apologised to the world for wearing a tacky shirt on national TV. He refused to be drawn into answering questions about what shirt he would wear for the funeral saying it was inappropriate to discuss such matters.
The New York’s coroner’s office have confirmed that paint was found on the walls of Heath Ledger’s apartment. “We want to speak to the painter,” NYs chief forensic expert said. “There was not even a spot of paint on the floorboards, and that is unusual to the point of being suspicious. Over my thirty years on the force, I’ve dealt with dozens of painters, but I’ve never seen anything like this. This guy either knows how to put a drop sheet down properly or he is methodically careful. This is the guy I want to paint my beach house in Miami.”
Gay issues aside, because I don’t want to go into my personal life or what it’s like being a gay, could-have-been rodeo cowboy in suburban Perth, or how many rocking horses and whips and horse blinkers me and my partner Bruce have in the house, or our ride ‘em cowboy water bed, or how we made our house a replica of the Ponderosa from Bonanza, or my stamp collection of famous horse stamps, or why I never had a Barbie doll but loved dressing Ken up in Barbie’s clothes, I’d like to blog about the memories I have of Ledge and me as two very normal hetero kids growing up in Western Australia. One of the things I remember most about me and Ledge is the sausage sizzles down at the local Lion’s Park run by the Freemasons. I didn’t realise I was gay back then. I thought my obsession over how Ledge ate a sausage was just male bonding and Aussie mateship. He used to say, ‘Why do you watch me eat every sausage? I said, ‘You eat them so slowly, and I scoff them down. You’re still licking your first sausage, and I’ve already eaten three.” I should have known I’d turn out gay. Both of us should have, but neither of us had enrolled in drama classes at that stage. Neither of us had been corrupted by film culture. We didn’t know how metaphorical and prophetic a sausage could be or what impact it could have on our lives in our pre-pubescent Stanislavski days. We were just normal Aussie teenagers. We used to leave the Lions Park and go and watch each other take a dump in the neighbouring park and say things like, ‘Wow, man, you’ve shitted the whole sausage out just like it was when they put it on bread.’ And that’s what I admire most about Ledge. He could act gay but he never turned gay. I don’t know how he did it. I guess he was just a stronger character than I was. He was able to look at a certain moment in time and realise a sausage was a sausage and a dump wasn’t a sausage but just waste. He could cope with the difference between what’s cinema and what’s real life. I never could. I still see visions of sausage sizzles and dumps every time I watch Brokeback Mountain, whereas he moved on with his life. He’s moved on to death and I’m stuck here wondering whether I should trust the local butcher.
I don’t like name-dropping. By other people. So many people who didn’t know my mate Ledge (Heath Ledger) are writing about his death like they knew him in real life. It makes me sick. Being such close mates, I know Ledge would have wanted me to write something about this. Even though we didn’t speak about it yesterday on the phone. It’s not like he knew he was going to die just after we chatted. We talked about old times, like we always did. Just for a couple of hours. Like we do every few days. I don’t like big-noters, but Ledge did say to me, ‘If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be where I am today.’ What could I do but agree with him? When I knew it was the truth? Anyway, to fill a few of you people in who didn’t know him like I did - Back when we were school mates in Western Australia in one of Perth’s poofta-bashing suburbs, we were both considering acting as a career. One day, I said to Ledge, ‘Let’s do drama at school, dress up as fairies and girls, and see what happens to us.’ He said, ‘We’ll get the shit bashed out of us.’ I agreed, but then said to him, ‘One day, they’ll make lots films about pooftas, and they’ll be really popular. There will come a time when films about straight men aren’t anywhere near as popular as films about poofs. This could make or break both of us.’ He agreed. Nowadays I’ve learnt to call pooftas gays, but back then pooftas were pooftas. Neither of us wanted to miss out on the chance to play the role of a gay in a Hollywood film just because we knew nothing about gays, and were busy shagging chicks. So we both agreed to do act like gays for as long as it took. We even went to school wearing dresses and did home ec, typing and business studies. One day, while we were both in hospital recovering from injuries after the local footy team bashed the shit out of us, Ledge said, ‘You play a lot better gay bastard than I do.’ I had to agree. It was true. ‘You should move to Sydney and do film school,’ he said. That’s when I sacrificed my future film career for him. I just looked him straight in the eye and said, ‘Ledge, I’ve got a confession to make.’ He looked at me. I looked back at him. He looked away. I said, ‘Look at me.’ He did. Then I said, ‘After being sodomised by so many straight guys from the local footy club, I’ve learnt to enjoy it. I am gay now. I can’t act as a gay man in a film. I can only be gay. You’re a better actor than me. You go for it.’ And he did. And he never forgot it. Till last night when he died. When you forget everything. He even sent me and my partner Bruce a signed copy of Brokeback Mountain, and wrote on it, ‘Thanks for sacrificing your straightness for my career.’ So I wish fame-by-association celebrity wannabes who didn’t know Ledge like I did would stop writing about him as if they did.
Nameless and faceless Pakistani people whose family members were killed in a recent suicide bomb attack have all taken up Blogging to write about the devastation in their lives about the news that Heath Ledger is dead.
Hollywood moves quickly. Only hours after Australian actor Heath Ledger was found dead from a drug overdose in Soho, Will Smith, Spike Lee and Michael Jackson flew to Soho’s crack and smack joints to produce ‘I was Ledger’. Smith is going to play a crack dealing, hip-hop, rapping, anti-Aussie honky, and denies he was typecast. Lee will use a hand-held cam and do minimal editing (apart from interspersing flashback clips of Britney Spears and Ledger together to establish a backstory and how he got onto drugs) in order to get the film out at the box office by tomorrow and on U-Tube by tonight. Lee insists Jackson was cast in the starring role as Ledger not just due to his white skin and striking similarity to Ledger especially in the nose area, but due to his association with Elizabeth Taylor, who will play a cameo as Ledger’s tyrannical Aussie mother, who flies to LA to audition for the part of the Joker and seeks revenge on her son in New York when she misses out on the part.
A group of sight-impaired people who were promised front-row seats to the Maria Sharapova match at Rod Laver arena last night, and paid big money for the tickets, only to be taken to a pig farm at Werribee by a Melbourne con man. The visually-impaired were convinced they were on centre court at the Sharapova match when they heard the constant grunting and squealing of the pigs, unaware the con man was smacking them on the rump with a tennis racquet and throwing tennis balls at their snouts. When one of their guide dogs jumped the fence around the pig-sty to defend the pigs, he was attacked by a near-sighted sow, leading to an all-in brawl between the pigs and the guide dogs. The sight-impaired thought the barking was unruly ethnic supporters. It wasn't until the owner of the pig farm arrived, and threw rotten capsicums at the con man, causing him to flee in the bus that they realised something was wrong. The con man has been described as having a loud voice. Anyone with information on a man with a loud voice is urged to contact Crime Stoppers.
Australia’s leading medical practitioners have warned women who drink coffee while pregnant are in danger of taking caffeine into their systems.
Leading women’s fashion designer Target have found a novel way of marketing their own brand of women’s bras after they break in half on their shoddy, third-world production lines. They have added a dodgy elastic waist band to each half-bra and released them as tennis ball holders for women tennis players to wear around their waists. The Bra Ball-Bag has become a popular fashion accessory for all women in the top 100. “Most of us are lesbians,” said a top 50 player. “As much as we enjoy the feel of our own hands tucking the tennis ball into our briefs, it looks a bit like a large cyst on our bums under our skirts or pants. Seeing the ball in a bra cup on the outside is not only more fashion conscious, it’s titillating. It keeps us focused. We win our matches quicker. There’s more to life than tennis.”
Starving African children have placed their adoption money from non third-world countries into a fund to help Venus Williams get over her thigh injury in the Australian Open. Venus was so touched by their charity she plans to use part of the funds to buy $1M earrings with all the diamonds shaped in a T. "It was my mom's idea. She said it was the best way to say 'T'hanks." Poppa Williams said, "Even if half of these chldren die before the end of the Australian open, their parents will look at the little T-shaped cross above their grave and thank God for Venus's achievements for black humanity." Serena added, "She's the black Mother Teresa."
The Australian Opens’ 36th biggest loser, a fit and ripped Marcos Baghdatis, has had an obese person’s gutful of pussy woos Australian attitudes to politically correct bullshit. “I can’t tolerate tolerance or the tolerant,” he said as he burnt a thousand Australian flags from Cheap as Chips with Cash Converters matches to get a souvlaki barbie going in the back yard of the Melbourne soccer-loving bikie group of louts and hoons, Hellas Angels. “The next Skip, Bunning’s sausage-sizzle eating bogan who apologises for calling me a Turkish Cyprian Smelly Wog Bastard, I’ll serve such a big backhander with a topspinning kick and slice, they’ll wish their parents were Lleyton and Bec Hewitt and they went MIA before the soapie action started in the bedroom. Either that, or I’ll drag them from their new-estate addresses in Melbourne’s western suburbs to a Greek restaurant in South Yarra by their hairy nipples and bumholes and challenge them to a moustache-off with my auntie to see who gets the last lamb steak.”
If there is one thing that I won't consider doing it's hypothesizing. There's nothing I like less than lessons that aren't learnt, ladies and lads. What could happen is part of so much nasal gazing. Looking down at others who are looking down at you is like looking up your own skirt. If there's one thing that gets up my skirt it would have to be my hand. Looking down my nose is a business that is all about the bottom. Line for line this post is part and parcel of delivering letters. After I've been to the urinals you'll know why they call me "Tinkle toes". I'm a real man. Of letters and warts, I'll take tablets. There's a great many thins to be gained from denying yourself. From this you can infer that I've fallen off. Let me just confer with my fingers. I'm one of those types who just can't stop at a red light district. It's go go, dancers. Standing at a dancefloor is a big part of my mating ritual. Dancing is a bigger part of my laugh. Standing and dancing: verbs.
An Indian has branded a poll racist.
An international poll of one white supremacist has branded the Indian cricket team and Indian supporters racists.
Argumentative people will argue arguments are not only worthwhile but necessary to prove the point they wish to argue, and a person not entering into an argument to prove their point, has no point. So much so, the argumentative person will end up arguing with himself to prove this point. Non argumentative types, who could argue that arguments don't prove anything, prefer not to argue. The reason cows take a long time to come home is they live in the shed.
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After being criticised by the Sri Lankans for inserting a squash ball into his glove during the World Cup final to gain an unfair advantage, Adam Gilchrist has decided to use a basketball in both gloves during his second innings in Perth. He also plans to put two soccer balls in his shoes to cope with the extra bounce at the WACA. "I wont be wearing traditional pads either," Gilly said. "I've cut down a couple of AFL goal posts and will be strapping them to my shins." Instead of a helmet, Gilcrhist will wear a netball on his head with specially cut-out eye sections so he can see. Instead of the traditional 'protector' known as a box to protect his nether regions, Gilchrist will strap a real cardboard box around his loins. "It's a box a hockey stick comes in when you order them online," he said. "It might look a bit silly at first, but it will give me extra protection, being almost a metre long." Instead of thigh pads, Gilchrist will bend two tennis racquets in half and insert them into his creams. "They will give extra value for leg byes," he said, "due to the bounce." Instead of a chest guard, Gilly will tie a dart board to his chest and wear a larger-than-normal shirt. "We can learn a lot from other sports."
Of all the things that make me debate the worth of opinions it would have to be debating. There's always two sides. To every story it pays to fall asleep. Stories are deeply appealing to the troubled minefield. Opinions are, as the say, likeable. If I was to enter into debate with my adversary I would first adopt a few children. Adopting your adversary's position is akin to going on a mission. Going on a mission is not to be sneezed. Pepper, I can never understand, is. The salt of the earth is what I'm not. I'm a regular peeper, Tom. In any season, I should always like to shake a leg. It's high time I got off my rocker. If I haven't already. When dining out on the stupidity of yourself, shake well. Well, I think I've said my peas are undercooked. It's sort of over now. Salt and pepper: opposite.
An Anglo-Saxon man who brought a currie pie into the WACA today to eat during lunch at the cricket will not be charged with trying to incite a riot.
Norm
Mal
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